Chapter 45

Even after spending the rest of Spring Break in a wheelchair or sitting on a stool, Bobby and the Silver Spur was still the most popular band on or near the beach.

I adamantly refused to sign a contract for a record label. Every time I mentioned lawyers, the agent jerked the contract out from under my nose. No amount of sweet talking, under the counter payments, or coercion of any kind ... even my fellow bandmates ... would convince me to sign. And I had sole ownership to my songs. Bobby and Tommy signed up with I don’t know how many agents and record companies ... but without me ... null and void.

I had too much to do and places to go.

Stations playing bootleg recordings over the air were swiftly sued and copies destroyed. Fakes played and recorded were shut down by the FCC. Somehow, I always knew when there was a tape machine attached to our main board or somewhere in the audience ... Thanks guys.

<Yer welcome>

Nothing worked ... If I couldn’t have the contract in hand for a week it wasn’t signed.

I began playing neck lead left handed and worked the Yamaha GX-1 with my right. I’d had the foot pedals and woodwork removed ... we had George ... don’t need another bass player.

Sitting down.

“Impossible!” said the lead player from the Royal Toads ... it can’t be done. There’s a tape machine in there.” He was in to see why we were more popular than his band ... we weren’t British. I invited him on stage.

“Here, you play ... I’m going to get fancy and I need both hands.”

He took my guitar ... I shouted the chord progression twice.

And then I started singing. I came to the instrumental and said, “Take it.”

The crowd went wild when we started swapping lines ... girls were dancing, guys were dancing ... it was nuts.

People would dance until thirst overtook ‘em. As soon as there was a spot on the dance floor someone took it. They were dancing all the way to the water. Thousands of Spring Breakers celebrating rites of passage. As long as they were dancing I kept making up lines and verses to the same song and nobody seemed to mind that it was longer than In A Gadda Da Vida.

I knew George was a robot when it came to the bass ... but I had no idea ... I mean ... the fella from the Toads said, “Take it George,” he moved to the front of the stage and rocked. George was off and running ... some serious talent in that boys fingers. And ON BEAT! Tommy stretched his solo out for at least five minutes ... him and George off in their own world ... and they owned that world. At 2 o’clock, we quit.

“Go home ... we are.”

Joe A ... who never left the office ... stepped up to the microphone and said... “Can you do that again? Tomorrow?”

The yelling and shouting stopped.

Joe A said... “What about you? Wanna hear that again?”

Pandaemonium.

They were still in full bore riot when I got home.

Now for the sad part of the month.

Sailing lessons continued every day from about noon ‘til 5 o’clock ... and I couldn’t go. One thing not needed on a sailboat is someone who cannot get out of the way.

Even so, I wanted out on the water, even if all I could do was sit.

Mel was pushing me through the local Kroger’s when I saw the ad.